Work in progress?

I got paint on this shirt. I figured I'd paint it, so that I could wear it again. I like what I've got so far, but I'm not 100% sure if I'm done yet. I might do something more of a background, especially since I didn't cover over all the yellow paint on it. Here's what I've got so far...




p.s. I did this in fabric paint, just in case anyone was wondering. I just used those puff paints with a brush. I did the same with my boots in this entry, only I used some acrylics on those, too (since Converse pretty much are made of canvas and they will not be going in the washing machine).

Is it some kind of seaweed monster?

For the second time, I went to the Michigan dunes with my boyfriend. He then proceeded to turn into a seaweed monster. He has since returned to normal, but at the time, it was quite disturbing.

It's been a while, eh?

Not much to post, just a simple picture of a kitty. It was wandering around in my back yard, so I took a few snapshots (and snuck in a few ear & tummy pets, as well).

I WILL UPDATE THIS SOONISHLY, I PROMISE.

I do not currently have a camera because I left it (along with my brand new concealer, grr) at my friend's house in a purse last week. Hopefully I will see her soon.

I shall try to do some writing, and you may or may not see a bit of the comic that is still yet to emerge from the minds of my boyfriend and myself.

Sorry for lack of updates, though. D:

So sorry for the lack of updates as of late. I haven't been working on anything... hopefully a comic will start happening soon...

In the meantime, here is something I made when I was probably about 5 years old. Read the regular blog for more details.



Hope you had a good laugh looking at this... I know I did.

Omg Shoes.

YEAH. I forgot to post this. I painted these shoes. They were originally white.

This is a little siggy section for my friends. There's a little space because I still need a couple more people to write something.

So yeah. Definitely lots of fun. Some lady at the mall told me I should buy many pairs of them, paint them, and sell them on eBay, haha. :]

I made this puppet for French class. I'm doing a project with another girl in which we have to tell a story to the class and teach some vocabulary, so we are doing a puppet show for the story part, and this is the puppet I made. (She made a gorilla!)

His name is Geraldo because the first thing I drew after his eyes, nose, and mouth was his awesome mustache and it reminded me of Geraldo Rivera.

This is how I hold it up, if you wanted to see that part.
(You can also see that I have written his name and then his title in the story, le vendeur, which is the vendor/salesman.)

I saw some pretty tulips outside the mall a few weeks ago, but forgot about the pictures I took of them until just now.

My friend Maggie and I were outside during study hall, just noticing these little guys. They were tiny, probably the size of the eye of a sewing needle. Not sure what they were, but I played with my digital macro to get a few shots of them.

This little guy looks like he's about to jump off the edge of Maggie's math book. Don't do it! You have so much to live for! Teehee.

I know it's not likely that anyone would steal my work, since it is not of that high of a caliber, however I thought it might be a good idea to have one of these doodads posted. I got this idea from TeeTee, but I modified it to my own needs on this particular blog.

Basically, this is a little license for anyone who may want to copy or borrow or whatever a photo/poem/etc. that I post to this page.


This work by http://artsyfartsyn.blogspot.com/ is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

Pretty much, here's the deal: It's totally cool if you want to use some part of my art junk on this page to post elsewhere, but there are a couple of rules:
1) Non-commercial use only.
2) Attribute the work to me, preferably by referencing this blog. =)
3) Let me know if you're going to borrow something, just so I'm not like "oh hay, why is my stuff on his/her site?"

Aaaand, since you've been so kind as to read this post, here is a little something for you! hehe.

This is the header I made for my regular blog. I figured it was "artsy" to some extent.

Subliminal messaging?

I always see this on the bottom of Hershey's syrup bottles. Maybe I'm crazy, but I think they're trying to do a little subliminal messaging, here. :]

I got a Splash award! Thanks, Maggie! I don't want to post the exact same thing here, so I'll just link to the post in my regular blog. HERE!

In other news, the coffee house went well. I got a couple laughs from reading my haiku about crepes, so that was good. :)

French

Two haikus in French. 20 cool points if you can read them, lol. :)
These are mostly just for practice, but they're still fun.

#1
Les crêpes, les gaufres.
Je les aime beaucoup, vraiment!
Ils sont très très bon!

#2
Les nuages crient,
"Vous regardez, tout le monde!"
Maintenant, il pleut.

work in progress

I started writing this in study hall and I'm not sure if I'm done or if I'm going to change it. This might be what I read at the coffee house on Friday.

"Smells like rain,"
Said he to she.
"Smells like rain
And tastes like clouds."
Then no more words were said.

They listened, feeling
With their eyes,
As the first droplets began
To fall upon the ground's feet,
Reaching up toward their hands,
Which could now hear the
Abundantly tiny "Pat-a-tat"

"Smells like rain,"
Said she to he,
As they tuned their ears
To taste the sounds and smells
Brought to them
By smiling clouds.



On top of that, I really want to use this phrase somewhere in a poem. I just don't know what to put around it, lol.

"In my mind's eye, I
Rode along the road."

WHAT DO I DO WITH THAT? I'm thinking it'll be something about a dream.

a series of haikus

Here are a bunch of haikus I wrote during study hall. First time I'm posting something that wasn't an assignment!

If you don't already know, I'll explain what a haiku is. Basically, it's three lines long. First and third lines are both five syllables long, while the second is seven syllables long. It can be about anything, although I think people use them a lot to describe like nature and such, if I'm not mistaken. Anywho, here they are.



Teeny, tiny pats.
Happy, wet, and free they fall.
The smell captures me.

Dainty black flowers
Dance on a white ballroom floor
Softly touched by pink

Eating on the floor,
We laugh without abandon,
Love each other free.

Half-moon home of laughs,
Beautiful and oh so sweet
Perfectly crooked.

Yellow boxes sleep.
Others sleep on them, content.
While some-bored to death.

Subjects (in this order): Rain, my prom/banquet dress, my lunch group, a certain smile, study hall furniture.

This time, our assignment was to write "a poem." Like... pretty much, that was it. Ok, I'm lying, there was a little more to it. We had to write in the style of modern poets, like e.e. cummings or someone of the same time. We had to use styles like free verse, scrambled syntax, or "creative punctuation." We could write about anything we wanted to. I couldn't think of anything to write about, which kind of inspired me in a way, so I came up with this.

I would really like some input, actually. Not like "omgeez you suck" or "I like your poems" or anything like that. More like... do you get them? Do they make sense? Or are they just crazy? If they don't make sense, do you know why? (Some of them won't make sense to certain people because of what they're about, and that's fine with me.) Do they speak to you in a special way? Should I write more? Ideas on what to write about would be appreciated, too. I don't want this just to be school assignments.

Anyway, here's the poem. See if you can tell me what it's about. ;] Pretty easy, I think.

The great, invisible Parasite

The Block sits,
feeding off of The Writer’s
inability to think of
something.
anything.
any word at all.

why do they call it
“Writer’s?”
anyway?
if anything,
The Block is the owner
in that relationship.

“a blank page
is like an empty canvas.”
stop. erase. start over.

The Block is taking its toll.

The Writer shies away,
from The Block,
but it only gets heavier.

moment upon moment,
even days may pass.
The Writer can feel The Block
pressing down
soaking up
every loose thought,
every A, E, I, O, U
(and sometimes Y)

And Then It Happens.

suddenly,
The Writer breaks into a run.
faster and faster,
feet pound against the pavement,
pen races across the page,
all reaching out toward the happy ending
now in sight.
The Block stumbles
under its own immense weight,
trying to catch up and
trap The Writer again.

The Writer travels across the world,
through forests and oceans,
love and hate,
joy and despair.
new Friends are created,
allowing The Writer to make more.

but every once in a while,
The Block rears its ugly head,
a moment of panic strikes
The Writer.
but, after some time,
The Writer again escapes
and The Block begins the chase,
anew.

Us

For this assignment, we had to write some kind of love poem. It didn't necessarily have to be love like I love my boyfriend/girlfriend/etc. but just some way in which you've experienced love. We had just read "The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock" and "How Do I Love Thee," so we could kinda use those as reference. It could be about anything or anyone. My teacher suggested perhaps something Easter-related (Christian school, you see). I didn't go with that, but I don't think it matters. Here's what I came up with. Every word is on purpose.


Us
There is no you, me, you, you, you, or you.
There is only us.
Us is all that matters, sometimes.
Othertimes, when the times are all that matter,
Us is what keeps us together,
Even when us is apart.

Us is love, laughter, life.
Us is dancing, day or night,
Rain or shine,
Even or uneven.

Us is a hayride,
It goes through the course,
Sometimes dark, scary, but always perfect.

Us is a movie theatre,
Drinking lemonade,
Laughing until tears are falling from every eye,
Shouting out at the wrong (right) time.

Us is us.

Us is love.

This is from my digital photography class my sophomore year (aka last year). It's the color selection setting on my camera set to yellow, not photoshopped, if that matters at all.

Ezra Pound got nothin' on me (only not so much)

When we reunite
Twin minds woven into unshared features;
Bread baking the same way in two different ovens.




(Our English teacher wanted us to write poems that were similar in format to Ezra Pound's "In a station of the Metro," with the two parallel yet unrelated phrases and everything. So... that was mine. It's about my sister, if that makes any sense... not great, but definitely not the worst in the class.)

G, The Car, and Reverse

This is for my Great Gatsby project. I chose to write 3 poems. They have to be free verse and have to include at least three literary devices (i.e. simile, metaphor, alliteration, etc.). This is what I've got for the first poem. Here are the three poems I've got.

Green
Greed
Growth
Grasping at that one bit of hope.

Girl wants everything and more,
Guy can't catch a break. He hears,

"Go for what you want." He hears,

"Get it or
Go on trying.
Go 'til your
Grave, buried under that
Green, green grass, along with those
Gut-wrenching bodies of those folks who tried to
Grasp it all before you. And maybe someday you'll
Grab your dreams with force like a
Great, gargantuan gust of wind
Gravid with those ever-present dreams from
Generations past."

The Monstrous Murder Machine
It looked at him,
Perfection marred only by a splash of blood.
"She killed the only one who let you have her."

It was right.
Its cream-colored face had shown a
Murderous, sickly green.
KRRR-ACK! And it was over.

All that pride and joy,
All that work,
Every drop of bright beauty and brilliance

Every moment spent reaching,
Working,
Loving
Was lost in an instant in which time stood still.

Had gone to waste.
"I brought you to her,
Now I've taken you away,
From her, from life---"

And in that instant, he was gone.

Reverse
The heat is on
Life is full of twists and turns,
Unexpected.
The fire explodes with deceit, desire, drama and death.
"Hot!...Hot!...Hot!"

And then blows the cooler, softer wind.

Dancers circle, laughter ensues.
Steps creak under the weight of rekindled love.
The air is warm with that kindling.
Warm and lovely, it whispers no secrets.

The clouds begin to gather themselves,

Hiding away the sunshine.
The glowing light is smeared by rain,
And with it the joy and excitement of
Starting over.

The wet air cools herself.

New homes are found.
New friends and new lives.
The world is filled with complete wonder.
Every possibility stands like a flower about to blossom.


"Can't repeat the past? Why, of course you can!"


If you've read Gatsby, these hopefully make some sense to the story, right? Even if you haven't, they at least kinda make sense, right? I'm kinda worried. Oh well. I'm done with the project, anyway.